When We Dance
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: Set during an AU season 5. Jack, Irina, the French Riviera.


Title: When We Dance  
Written for: delordra  
Requirements: Irina as a rich hotel guest with one of those decorative little dogs Story elements for second choice: Jack observing Irina sunbathing in a bikini, either Jack or Irina trying to stop the other from completing their mission, the dog being essential to the mission.  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not my characters.

Jack Bristow rarely went on undercover operations; since Sydney had entered the intelligence world he preferred to be somewhere he could oversee what was happening rather than trying to infiltrate one group or another and having no idea what was happening with Sydney's operation. It wasn't that Jack doubted his daughter's skill; no, it was everyone else he didn't trust.

But now Sydney was on honeymoon with Michael Vaughn, who was not good enough for Jack's little girl – nobody was, really – but he was whom Sydney had chosen, though Jack didn't quite understand why.

Since Sydney was not involved in any current operation, when Dixon had approached Jack and asked if he was interested in an undercover mission – "It's short; it'll only take a day or two." – Jack agreed. He could use the distraction.

And if he was in the field he wouldn't be thinking about his wife. Ex-wife. Dead wife. The last time he'd seen her, she kissed him and walked off into the ruins of a city and he knew it was over between them.

Jack remembered he was not supposed to be thinking about her, and spent the next few minutes focusing on the task at hand and getting into character. When the limousine pulled up outside the Palais Maeterlinck, a porter opened the door for him, and Leonid Borzov, a Russian businessman stepped out. Dressed head to toe in black, wearing a pair of glasses, he did not look like the typical French Riviera tourist. Yet his bearing suggested that this was the kind of luxury he was used to.

"Welcome to Nice, Mr. Borzov," the porter said. "Please follow me."

Jack grunted; his character was not a friendly man. Until two days ago, Leonid Borzov had not existed, but now – thanks to Marshall – he had a complete history which included ties with the KGB. Jack wondered if that was someone's idea of a joke; he didn't find it very funny. Still, a link to the current Russian mafia was one of the things his contact would be interested in – but Jack wondered how the hell this was supposed to keep his mind off Irina.

"I'm afraid check-in time is only at three, Monsieur," the porter said. "Would you like to take a walk around the grounds until then? Or perhaps Monsieur would care to dine in the restaurant?"

"I go for walk," Jack said, his Russian accent thick. He could scope out the surroundings and hopefully see if his contact was already here. The CIA had received word that Jacques Hugo, a French doctor who was believed to have worked with the Covenant at one point, had also worked with Elena Derevko. The intel suggested that he might have useful information regarding some missing Rambaldi artifacts the CIA was anxious to acquire.

"Very good." The porter bowed his head. "We'll arrange to have your bags taken to your room as soon as it's available."

Jack didn't reply; he had already turned and was walking out towards the pool area.

The hotel was obviously a playground for the rich and bored, Jack thought as his gaze skimmed the people lazing around the pool. Young people spending their parents' money, soaking up the Riviera sun—

And there she was, reclining on a lounger at the far side of the pool, wearing a black bikini that left little to the imagination, looking more beautiful than was humanly possible.

He frowned; if Irina was here, that meant that the mission was compromised. It also meant that she was working against him – against Sydney, he thought bitterly. If he hadn't felt so guilty about killing her – her clone, he reminded himself – then he wouldn't have let her walk away in Sevogda. For a second Jack wished he hadn't been so insistent on doing this the old-fashioned way: no ear piece, his back up in another hotel a few miles down the coast.

Just then she stood, and for a moment Jack could only stare. She wrapped a sarong around her waist, then bent down to pick something up—

A dog. A small dog that served no purpose except to sit on its owners lap and yap annoyingly. Jack knew then that Irina was not here on holiday; even as Laura, she had been a cat person.

He began walking to her even as she started towards the hotel. They met midway, standing between sunbathers and the pool. Her smile was amused.

"It's good to see you again."

He said nothing.

The dog yapped, and Irina scratched its head.

"What are you doing here?"

Irina's smile widened and Jack wished she'd remove her sunglasses so he could see her eyes. "I could ask you the same question."

"Eva!"

They both turned at the sound of the voice, and Jack felt his heart sink. Dr. Hugo, the man he'd come to meet, was gazing adoringly at Irina.

"Jacques." Irina kissed his cheeks, then gave an indulgent smile as Hugo scratched the dog's head. And Jack knew why she had the dog.

"Who is your friend?" Hugo asked.

Irina tilted her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Jack beat her to it. "Leonid Borzov. We have meeting this evening, yes?"

"Ah, Mr. Borzov!" Hugo shook Jack's hand. "This evening, yes. I didn't realize you were a friend of Eva's."

Irina's smile was strained. "I wouldn't exactly call us friends."

"Is small world," Jack said. His eyes were still on Irina.

"Yes." Hugo scratched the dog's head again, then let his hand fall to his side. "Well, until tonight then."

Irina smiled, Jack nodded, and Hugo went up the steps into the hotel.

"Your accent is terrible," Irina said.

Jack shrugged; his accent was the last of his worries right now. "What are you doing here, _Eva_?"

"Ah, _Leo_, you know how long it's been since I've had a holiday."

He felt the air being sucked out of him, and remembered her body falling backwards into a pool—

"Are you going to let me walk away again, Jack?" She picked an imaginary piece of fluff from his shoulder. "Or are your agents going to take me in?"

"If you leave now, I won't have to do anything."

She sighed. "I can't do that."

"Irina—"

"Hugo has something I need."

Even now, after everything that had happened, she was still obsessed with Rambaldi. Disappointment made him bitter, and he said, "So you're planning to seduce him to get it."

Her smile vanished. "You have no claim on me, Jack."

"I never did, did I?"

She looked away, her expression still unreadable, and Jack wondered if he'd gone too far. Then she gave one hard shove, and Jack felt himself falling. He instinctively grabbed her arm, and the two of them – three, including the dog – fell into the pool.

To his surprise, Irina was laughing when they surfaced. "I've missed you," she said, then rescued the dog and climbed gracefully out of the water.

Two members of the hotel staff came rushing towards them, carrying towels. "Madame, Monsieur, is everything alright?"

Jack climbed out of the pool, far less dignified than Irina had done so, and accepted a towel. "Is nothing. I like challenge."

Irina gave a light wave, fluttering her fingers before she turned and disappeared into the hotel. Jack watched her go; he couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to.

Despite himself, he thought he might enjoy this mission after all.

And he was glad there were no other CIA agents in this hotel.

* * *

Irina stretched out on the bed and towel-dried her hair. Her thoughts turned to Jack; she hadn't realized the CIA was paying attention to Hugo. Then again, she'd been out of the loop for so long that it wasn't such a surprise. Somehow she would have to make sure Jack didn't get in the way of what she had come here to do. The CIA could have Hugo for all she cared – as long as she got what she needed from him first.

She let the towel fall from her fingers as another thought occurred to her: Jack could help her. He owed her that much – and as much as she tried to tell herself she understood why he had wanted to kill her, every time she thought about it, pain cut through her so sharply that it burned.

The dog yapped at her from its position on the floor and Irina threw a pillow at it. "Shut up."

It fell silent immediately.

Irina reached for the phone on the bedside table and dialed the number for reception. After she'd sweet-talked the man who'd answered into giving her Leonid Borzov's room number, she hung up. Then, wearing nothing but the dressing gown she'd put on after her shower, she headed for another confrontation with Jack.

He looked surprised to see her. "Come to apologize?"

"After you," she said.

He smiled. "What do you want?"

There was no simple answer to that question, though so many of the possible answers were tied up in the man standing in front of her. She knew he wouldn't believe her, so she gave an enigmatic smile and pushed past him into the room.

"The Presidential Suite, Jack? I didn't realize the CIA had the budget for this."

"Irina—"

"I need you to do something for me."

He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. "Really?"

"Don't make your move on Hugo until tomorrow. I only need one night and then I'll be gone."

The look on his face was comical. "If you think I'm going to compromise my mission so that you can – for the sake of your love life – you're insane."

She walked right up to him, invading his personal space, but he didn't push her away. She touched his arm. "Jack, it's important."

"I'm sure it is."

"Jack, I don't know what you know about Hugo, but he was a Rambaldi follower. He—"

"I'm so tired of your obsession with Rambaldi. Look what it's got you, Irina: a dead sister, a daughter in a coma—"

"He might have a cure!" The words were out before she could stop them, but even now she could see the change in Jack's expression, could see a truth in his eyes that she had wanted to believe for so long. She exhaled and bent her head forward until her forehead rested against his shoulder. "You tested her."

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "What makes you so sure about the cure?"

"Elena mentioned his name once or twice. I think he was working for her."

Jack slipped his hands around her waist. "We have information that confirms that."

"What does the CIA want with him?"

"Information."

Irina looked up, and her smile was tender as she brushed her fingers across Jack's cheek. "Be vague, then."

He smiled too. "I'll help you."

"Thank you."

"I just have one question. Why the dog?"

She laughed and slipped her arms around Jack's neck. "Hugo breeds them. The little rat in my room needs a mate."

"You weren't planning on sleeping with Hugo, then?"

"I'm not really his type." She ran one of her hands down Jack's chest, then reached around him to grab his ass. "He likes you, I think."

"Irina—"

She would never be sure who kissed whom, only that one minute they were standing next to the wall, and the next they were on the bed and somehow Irina had lost the dressing gown.

"Jack, are you sure--?"

"Shh."

She remembered the way he had looked at her next to the pool; she'd felt a sudden thrill that she still had some power over him, but as he gazed down at her now, she felt something else entirely. Something she hadn't felt in years, something she'd thought was long dead.

She had told Jack, the first time she saw him after turning herself into the CIA, that she'd carried a picture of him in her mind for the twenty years that she'd been gone. The man smiling at her now, the way he'd smiled at Laura the first time they'd made love, was closer to that image she'd held than the Jack he'd been in all the years since. Even during the year they'd spent together searching for Sydney, there had been a constant undercurrent of hate and pain. It occurred to her that his murder of her had been the thing that had exorcised him of all of that, and she pushed aside the thought before it was even fully formed.

His hand skimmed across her belly and she smiled in anticipation. Then he bent forward and kissed her forehead in the exact spot he'd put a bullet in her double's head. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and she was undone.

She pulled him closer and blinked back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Once she was certain she had regained some measure of control, she pushed him off her, then tugged at his shirt until it came off. She met his gaze for a second, then leaned over him and kissed the area above his heart. "I'm sorry, too."

The phone rang, startling them both. They looked at each other.

"It could be your boyfriend," Irina said.

Jack glared at her, but reached for the phone. "Da?" he barked into the receiver.

Irina ran her hands down his chest, then began working at his belt buckle. His eyes widened, and he shook his head. She smiled, and ignored him, slipping one hand into his pants. He caught her wrist.

"Da. Tonight." Jack hung up. "You're evil."

"I know this will come as something of a surprise to you," she said, "but this isn't the first time I've been told that."

"I'm shocked," he deadpanned. His expression turned serious as he added, "That was Hugo. He – Uh, could you put your robe back on?"

"Why?"

"Because we need to discuss the plan for tonight, and I can't concentrate with you sitting here wearing absolutely nothing."

Irina smiled. "Okay."

"Okay."

"You're going to have to let go off my wrist, though."

* * *

The hotel's restaurant lay at the foot of the hotel and could only be accessed by a glass elevator. Irina absently patted her dog's head as she gazed out at the view. She tried not to think too much about the enclosed space, and was thankful that the glass gave the illusion that this was not really an elevator. Once she reached the bottom, she casually strolled into the restaurant and glanced around until she found Jack and Hugo. Hugo seemed to be having a wonderful time, and Jack looked completely bored.

Time to liven things up, she thought, and crossed the floor.

"Jacques! Leo!" She smiled brightly at each of them. "I'm so glad you're here. I was just thinking about how terrible it would be to have to dine alone tonight." A brief pause. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Of course not," Hugo said and stood up to pull out a chair for Irina.

Jack grunted, and sipped his drink.

Irina let the dog's leash slip through her fingers as she sat. The dog scampered off across the room. "Oh no!"

"I'll get her," Hugo said. "You need to order."

As Hugo went in pursuit of the dog, Jack emptied a capsule into Hugo's drink. The fine white powder dissolved instantly and by the time that Hugo returned carrying the runaway canine, he was none the wiser. Ten minutes after he'd finished his drink, the effects of the drug began to show.

Irina reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. "Jacques, are you feeling alright? You're so pale."

He blinked uncertainly, then slowly shook his head. "Ah, maybe I should go back upstairs."

"Oh," Irina's voice was laced with concern, "we'll walk you back to your room, won't we, Leo?"

Jack nodded. "Da. We meet again tomorrow, when you feel better."

Hugo was barely conscious by the time they reached his room. Jack held him up while Irina searched his pockets for the key card. Once they were inside, Jack let Hugo flop onto the bed. Irina shut the dog in the bathroom and walked over to stand next to Jack.

"I'm sorry your date ended so badly," she said.

Jack grabbed her and kissed her so thoroughly that by the time he pulled away, she was panting for breath. "Who says the date's over?" he asked.

She laughed.

"How long will he be out for?"

"A couple of hours, at least."

He nodded, then began to search the room for the safe. Irina began at the other end of the room.

"Found it," Jack said.

Irina stood back to let Jack work. When the safe clicked open, she stepped forward, eager to see what was inside: yellowed pages filled with a spidery script that Irina knew so well. Somewhere in these pages was Nadia's cure; Irina wasn't sure how much of her certainty was just desperate hope, but she had very little to believe in these days and she chose to believe that her youngest daughter would not lie in a coma forever.

"Let's go," she said and headed for the door.

"What about your dog?"

"She'll be much better off with Hugo, I'm sure."

* * *

They sat cross-legged on the bed in Jack's suite, the pages spread out around them. Jack let go off the page he'd been studying and sighed. "None of this makes any sense to me."

A smile tugged at the corners of Irina's mouth. Jack watched her for a moment; she was poring over the documents obsessively, but it was a different kind of obsession to what he'd witnessed before.

"Are you really going to let me take all of this back to the CIA?" he asked.

She looked up sharply. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Do you really expect me to believe you aren't still obsessed what with Rambaldi can offer?"

"Rambaldi stole my family from me," she said simply.

Jack had nothing to say to that.

Irina returned her attention to the page she had been reading, and Jack picked up the one he'd discarded. Instead of looking at it, he kept his gaze on Irina, and noticed the abrupt stiffening of her spine.

"It's this one."

"I'll ask Marshall to take care of it." He reached for the page.

She hesitated. "The CIA will want to examine the page first. It could be months before they—"

"They'll be busy enough with the rest of these pages. No one else needs to know about the cure yet."

She held out the page. "Let me know when – when she wakes up."

He nodded. "Of course."

She broke eye contact. "Well, I suppose I should be going. You need to go, too, before Hugo wakes up."

"You said he'd be out for hours."

"Probably until morning. It's a strong drug."

"Hmm." Jack carefully stacked the pages on top of each other, then put them on the bedside table. He folded the one containing the cure and put it atop the pile. Then, slowly, he turned back to his wife, amused to see that despite her statement that they had to go, she hadn't moved.

Their eyes met, and they both smiled.

He leaned back against the pillows. "You know, we never had dinner."

"Some date, Bristow." She stretched out next to him, keeping a good distance from him. "I hear they have twenty-four hour room service here."

"Let's have dessert first." He closed the distance between them and kissed her.

Jacques Hugo woke to the sound of a high-pitched yapping. He also had a splitting headache and wondered for a moment if he'd got drunk the previous night. He closed his eyes against the mid-morning sunlight, but the yapping continued.

He frowned, then sat up as he recalled what had happened; he remembered feeling light-headed and Eva and Leo had helped him back up to his room . . .

He stood, and opened the bathroom door. Eva's dog ran out into the bedroom, still yapping.

Not quite sure what was going on, Hugo swallowed a couple of aspirin and shut the curtains before collapsing back onto the bed.

It would be several hours before he thought to check his safe.


End file.
